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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26077495">The Diary of Izaya</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdark_passengerXx/pseuds/xXdark_passengerXx'>xXdark_passengerXx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Significant &amp; Serious Topics [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Durarara!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, M/M, Shizaya - Freeform, Suicide, but that’s not the main focus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:34:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26077495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdark_passengerXx/pseuds/xXdark_passengerXx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>❝theres a fine line between love and hate and i don't mind<br/>just let me say that i like that, i like that❞</p><p>---</p><p>     He flipped to the last entry. </p><p>     /18 July, 2015</p><p>     I can't do this anymore. /</p><p>      Shizuo blinked at the page, eyeing the date once again to make sure that it was the day Izaya decided to end his life. It was. That didn't make any sense. </p><p>    He skimmed the last few entries to find something to explain what it was to make Izaya think he couldn't live anymore, yet he found nothing. The entries  just expressed how confused Izaya was, how he didn't know who he was or how he felt. </p><p>    Shizuo couldn't tell if Izaya loved him. Shizuo couldn't tell if he loved Izaya.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Significant &amp; Serious Topics [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Diary of Izaya</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>once again, this isnt supposed to romanticize anything!! please call me out if it seems that way</p><p>*the title is taken from a song, the diary of jane. its a great song and this fic is entirely based on its lyrics and music video. i get not everyone likes this genre of music, so just mute the video..if you decide to look into it. </p><p>tw: depression, suicide</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>    "If somebody you loved dearly, say Kasuka, asked you to let him jump into this river, would you?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>     "'Course not! I'd stop him!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>    "It's not that easy to stop someone."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>     "I'd grab him and carry him home. That sounds like stopping him from killing himself to me."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>     "Then you don't truly understand."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>—</em>
</p><p><em>      "</em>Why'd he do it?" Shizuo asked, his voice quieter than anyone had ever heard. He didn't even realize his voice was barely above a whisper, then again, he didn't realize a lot. He still couldn't comprehend what had happened in the last few weeks.</p><p>    <em>'Shizuo,' </em>Celty typed, probably as a warning. He didn't heed it, more like couldn't. He was desperate for an answer.</p><p>    Shinra smiled as he tilted his head at Shizuo, questioning what he had asked. "Well, it could've been a number of things. I'm afraid I don't know what completely set him off the edge."</p><p>     Shinra acted as if it hadn't happened, or as if he didn't care. He continued to profess his love to Celty and patch up patients, he even talked about the incident, but he didn't show how upset he was. It wasn't a healthy coping mechanism, but Shinra didn't listen, not even to Celty. They didn't know how to help him, but then again, they were all dealing with this in their own way.</p><p>     "He seemed fine," Shizuo tried to convince himself, which didn't take a lot. "He was wreaking havoc in Ikeburuko every day, he didn't avoid me at all. He was fine."</p><p>    "He wasn't ever fine," Shinra called from the kitchen, doing the dishes. He got fidgety when they spoke about Izaya, which was understandable. "He was lost and confused, he didn't even know who he was. At one point, he didn't even know what he <em>felt</em>."</p><p>    "It makes no sense."</p><p>    "It makes so much sense."</p><p>    Shizuo had to keep himself from getting angry. As much as he wanted to punch Shinra, he wouldn't. He didn't think he could. Instead, he laid against the couch, sinking himself further into the seat.</p><p>     "He was struggling with depression."</p><p>    For the first time, Shinra's voice had gotten as quiet as Shizuo's, the cheeriness gone. It was devoid of all sadness, of all happiness— of everything. It was just a monotone voice.</p><p>    "For how long?" Shizuo managed to ask.</p><p>     "A long time." Shizuo turned his head to the kitchen to see Shinra staring at the sink with empty eyes. "Before he even met you."</p><p>     "That makes no sense," he repeated, staring at Shinra in confusion. He knew that wasn't true; it made the most sense.</p><p>     "What do you want me to say, Shizuo?" Shinra walked to the living room, his face as angry as Shizuo's had once been. "What, do you feel guilty?"</p><p>    "Of course I do," he admitted. He wasn't sure why, but he did. "He's dead and—"</p><p>    "Then imagine me!" Shinra finally broke down. "I saw the change in him. I saw it all from the beginning. He would tell me to leave it, and I would. I knew him for fifteen years and I couldn't help him!"</p><p>    Shizuo only stared at the tears threatening to fall from Shinra's eyes. Celty quickly ran to him, taking him to another room, leaving Shizuo alone in the living area. Without another word, he got up and left their house.</p><p>—</p><p>     It wasn't supposed to be like this. He should've been happy the flea was gone, yet he couldn't get the image of Izaya's body being lowered to the ground out of his head.</p><p>    He had hated him, he had wanted him dead. He had wished for nothing more than that. So why didn't it feel right? He was a bit sad that the streets were quieter— still full of fights from gangs and such, but it didn't quite have the chaos Izaya brought with him. <em>It wasn't right.</em></p><p>     He had always wanted to forget about Izaya, but the idea didn't seem so appealing anymore. He still wanted all the memories of him gone, so that maybe he wouldn't be feeling what he was, but he couldn't imagine his life without Izaya.</p><p>      So, here Shizuo stood, in front of Izaya's apartment door. Izaya's sisters and Shinra hadn't been near this building, they didn't want to touch anything, but Shizuo couldn't seem to stay away. He walked in absentmindedly.</p><p>    He felt a great wave of sadness wash over him as he closed the door behind him, his eyes glancing at everything Izaya owned. It was always so lifeless, but now that he looked at it, it was like no one had lived here for years.</p><p>    Walking towards Izaya's desk, he immediately began searching through all the papers, hoping to find a note, an explanation— <em>anything</em>.</p><p>     Soon, everything on the desk was lying across the floor, all the papers scattered. He almost threw the desk, but he didn't. As angry and confused as he was, Shizuo wouldn't dare mess Izaya's place up any more. This way, he could let himself believe that Izaya was still alive. Shizuo didn't know why he cared so much, but he knew he wanted him here, wanted to chase him around the city again—<em>wanted to see him smile.</em></p><p>There wouldn't be anything here, Shizuo concluded, his eyes landing on the staircase. Izaya wouldn't have anything personal where just anyone could see, but maybe his bedroom would give Shizuo something.</p><p>Slowly, he walked upstairs, taking in the new sight. He had never walked past Izaya's living room, he didn't think many people had ever seen Izaya's bedroom, which was where Shizuo was now standing.</p><p>     In his room, he could feel himself relax. It was the most familiar, yet unfamiliar, place he'd been to. Izaya's scent was the strongest here, albeit faint; after all, it had been weeks. Still, standing in one of Izaya's most personal places was appealing, in a sense; something set off in Shizuo's head at the idea that he had seen something about Izaya that wasn't a common sight.</p><p>      Shizuo walked to the closet first, thinking if he were going to find something, it would be hidden somewhere out of plain sight. He didn't even know what exactly he was looking for, but he knew it was something.</p><p>     After going through his clothes, Shizuo found a box hidden on the upper shelf, tucked away in a corner with a sheet over it. Without another thought, he reached for it and found notebooks in it. Sitting on his bed, he glanced at all of the notebooks' covers.</p><p>     <em>February 2003 - April 2008, May 2008 - November 2010, </em>and <em>December 2010 - August 2014, </em>were written across the three notebooks in a black marker. Shizuo figured they were a journal of some sort. Taking a glance at the date of the oldest one, he assumed Izaya began to write a few months before turning thirteen.</p><p>    Hesitantly, he opened the 2003 notebook revealing familiar handwriting. He stared at the words, not quite reading them, not quite sure if he wanted to, but he did. If something were going to give him answers, if something were going to help him figure out what he was feeling, it had to be these notebooks. So, he focused on the first few words, his eyes naturally reading the sentences that followed.</p><p>      <em>18 February, 2003,</em></p><p>
  <em>      Dad's been persistent lately. The therapist suggested I write in a notebook for whatever, I'm not really too sure why. Then again, I don't get why Dad wants me to go to these sessions. He thinks there's something wrong with me because I'm not interested in people like he is. I don't see humans as he does, I don't exactly see the appeal.</em>
</p><p>Shizuo reread the same paragraph a number of times to confirm what he had read. It seemed like Izaya hadn't always been interested in his humans, and that was weird to think about. It didn't fit Shizuo's image of Izaya. He disregarded his thoughts, moving on to another entry, flipping through half the book before landing on a page.</p><p>
  <em>     7 December, 2005</em>
</p><p>
  <em>     I don't get why Shinra bothers me. Years before, I'd talk to no one and I was fine. People would come up to me and ask if I wanted to kick a ball around or maybe go to the gas station with them, but I never agreed. It was because I never really liked them back then, but years later, I now understand. Still, it's strange to have someone so persistent. For all the people who wanted to speak to me, Shinra's the only one who's actually trying.</em>
</p><p>Shizuo held off his thoughts on that paragraph and was about to move on, but then the entry right after the one he just read caught his attention.</p><p>     <em>15 December, 2005</em></p><p>
  <em>     Nothing feels the same anymore. I know this feeling, I've been feeling it for years, but it feels more intense these days. I don't read like I used to because I always feel too tired to. It's small things like that but they add up. I don't know what it is or how to deal with it, but I know the more time I spend with humans, the less I feel the empty feeling.</em>
</p><p>      Shizuo read the last line again. It was like Izaya didn't actually mess with people's lives because he wanted to but because he didn't know how else to feel something.</p><p>     He shut the book, not wanting to read any of the old entries, not wanting to imagine how Izaya felt when Shizuo would chase him. Apparently, Izaya might not have been feeling anything at all, and Shizuo was afraid he used to run after an empty person.</p><p>      He glanced at a specific notebook before grabbing it reluctantly, immediately skipping to a date he knew all too well.</p><p>     <em>9 September, 2004</em></p><p>
  <em>      Shinra introduced me to this guy, Shizuo Heiwajima. He's got this ridiculous strength and I wish it fascinated me as I much as I make others believe. It's not that it's not interesting, but there's just something in my head that keeps dismissing everything. It makes something important into something so small, I barely think about it. That's what it's doing right now. I don't know how to stop it.</em>
</p><p>      Shizuo's fingers faintly touched over the smudged words, Izaya's laugh lingering somewhere in the back of his mind. All the hate he had once felt for Izaya was gone as if it were never there; he just felt sorry for him. He didn't like how he didn't realize something was so wrongly off. He thought Izaya was just messed in the head, but he didn't think it was something like this.</p><p>    He looked for the most recent notebook, but could only find the one dating to 2014. That wasn't right; if Izaya had continued to write for all these years, he wouldn't just suddenly stop. With that thought, he turned to the nightstand and there it was, another notebook sitting atop of it. It didn't have a date, but as Shizuo grabbed it and opened it up, he found it to be the most recent book.</p><p>      He flipped to the last entry.</p><p>     <em>18 July, 2015</em></p><p>
  <em>     I can't do this anymore.</em>
</p><p>      Shizuo blinked at the page, eyeing the date once again to make sure that it was the day Izaya decided to end his life. It was. That didn't make any sense. He skimmed the last few entries to find something to explain what it was to make Izaya think he couldn't do this anymore, yet he found nothing. They were all like the one he had previously read, nothing specifically jumped out at Shizuo to give him an explanation. It could've just been a buildup of everything, but that didn't seem right. If that were the case, Izaya would've done this years ago, maybe before he even began writing.</p><p>
  <em>—</em>
</p><p>Shizuo took the notebooks home. Every night before he went to bed, every day when he woke up, he would spend an hour reading them to get an understanding.</p><p>     <em>28</em> <em>April, 2006</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>     Shizu-chan chased me again today. The feeling was exhilarating. I can't tell if I actually felt that way or if it's just what I made myself believe, but I know I like it. For a moment, I can pretend that Shizu-chan's focus is on me only. I can pretend I mean something to him.</em></p><p>     Shizuo wasn't fazed after reading that entry. A lot of entries were about Shizuo and how Izaya wanted to believe Shizuo loved him, even though Izaya wasn't sure if that was what he wanted. At first, Izaya seemed sure he liked Shizuo, but as the entries went on, he would express his doubts and wonder if it was just his mind wanting someone by his side.</p><p>     Shizuo couldn't tell if Izaya loved him. Shizuo couldn't tell if he loved Izaya.</p><p>    The thought had never directly occurred to him, but as he thought about now, he realized it made sense. Days he didn't see Izaya, he would travel all the way to Shinjuku, portraying it as wanting to beat him up, but Shizuo couldn't recall a time he ever had. Every time, he would see Izaya, they would argue, Shizuo would go home with a heavy feeling lifted off his shoulders. In some way, Shizuo had always cared for Izaya. Shizuo just couldn't figure out what that meant. It may not have been love, but it was something.</p><p>    They spent a lot of time in high school together. Almost every day, they would sit beside one another— they had to, their friends made it inevitable. Back then, Izaya was more tolerable, less sinister. Shizuo always shrugged it off, thinking that, over time, Izaya's obsession with humans just got worse and no longer so bearable, but now, Shizuo knew it was because Izaya was slowly losing himself, forgetting who he was to the point he forgot how to feel everything.</p><p>    <em>July 8, 2006</em></p><p>
  <em>     Do I love him? Do I miss him? Or do I just miss feeling alive?</em>
</p><p>    The more he read, the more he would miss Izaya. He got more upset with each entry, more regret filled his heart. Izaya wasn't naturally a bad person, he was nurtured into who he was— he fabricated an image that would get him by, but even he falsely believed the image. Izaya didn't know who he was anymore.</p><p>     Shizuo just wanted to figure this out. It didn't matter how much he read, he didn't get any closer to finding out why Izaya did what he did. The entries just showed how confused and lost he was, but it didn't really reveal what Izaya couldn't handle anymore.</p><p>    Shizuo couldn't even figure out if he loved Izaya.</p><p>     It was a ridiculous thought at first, something he nearly laughed at, but then it made sense. Not only did he care for him, he always felt this feeling over Izaya, like protectiveness. He could remember days Izaya didn't seem so well and Shizuo would go out of his way to avoid Izaya so the latter couldn't provoke him. He could remember passing by Izaya in the halls as he was speaking to girls; he could remember the tightness feeling in his chest. He didn't know if it was love or if it was just some odd, platonic friendship. Nothing made sense.</p><p>     Shizuo lifted the journal again, hoping to figure out what Izaya was feeling, why he did it, if Shizuo ever loved him.</p><p>—</p><p>      It had been weeks, and Shizuo suddenly recalled a memory.</p><p>     <em>23</em> <em>January, 2008</em></p><p>
  <em>      I kissed Shizu-chan today. I thought it would help clear my head. It didn't. Nothing changed. Does that mean I feel nothing for him? How am I supposed to figure out what I feel towards him if I don't even know who I am?</em>
</p><p>     Shizuo didn't know how he forgot, but he did. He could remember the anger and confusion he felt that day. He lashed out, and looking back at it, he really wished he hadn't.</p><p>     He missed Izaya— like really missed him. These journals meant something, they were trying to tell Shizuo something, but he was an idiot, he couldn't figure this out.</p><p>     "What do you want me to do, Izaya?"</p><p>     He couldn't remember when he stopped calling him 'Flea' or 'Louse'. He found himself not caring about that.</p><p>     Countless times, he would stare at the ceiling and ask the same question, ask what Izaya wanted. Obviously, he couldn't decipher the meaning, but he didn't tell anyone else about the journals to help; he felt oddly possessive about them.</p><p>     Still, he thought up of several things. He wanted Izaya here, he wanted to see his goofy smile, which was a lot less malicious to recall when he wasn't angry. He would do anything to have him here. If Izaya loved him, if Izaya wanted him to put himself by Izaya's side, Shizuo would do it in a heartbeat. He would find a knife sharp enough, or maybe an ocean deep enough, and he would slip away and be right beside Izaya. The idea wasn't as strange anymore.</p><p>    He didn't kill himself though. He was sure if Izaya figured his feelings out, he would convey his wishes to Shizuo, who would listen to him without a second thought. Yet, Izaya didn't manage to sort his thoughts, he didn't tell Shizuo what he wanted, and that was what left Shizuo so confused.</p><p>He wondered what he'd become. He began to wonder when he decided to die for anyone, someone who may not even have loved him. Shizuo hadn't been like that before, he would rather save them, yet, with Izaya, it seemed like he was too late.</p><p>—</p><p><em>Shizuo</em> <em>stopped running as he finally caught Izaya, only to find him throwing rocks into a river. It looked to be deep and its current was fast. Shizuo was tempted to throw him in, knowing the latter couldn't swim, but then Izaya was turning to face him, and Shizuo could only stand there, wondering what he felt when Izaya looked at him so sadly.</em></p><p>
  <em>"If somebody you loved dearly, say Kasuka, asked you to let him jump into this river, would you?" Izaya questioned, his attention still on Shizuo, playing with a rock in his hands.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Shizuo should've gotten angry, should've been furious that Izaya brought up his brother, but he only stayed where he stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. "'Course not! I'd stop him!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Izaya's face somehow fell even more, seeming desperate. "It's not that easy to stop someone."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>     "I'd grab him and carry him home. That sounds like stopping him from killing himself to me." Shizuo shrugged because it really did</em><br/>
<em>seem so simple to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>     "Then you don't truly understand." Izaya finally looked away, his eyes shining by the reflection of the water. "Would you try, though, to carry me away?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Shizuo's face scrunched up in disgust. "As if you'd ever need saving."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"What, don't you want me to forever remember you?" Izaya asked, his head tilting to the side. "Don't you want a place in my life?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Why would I want that?" Shizuo found himself asking before he could take it back. He didn't like the feeling in the air; it was like something was about to get in the way or break. He didn't know what or why he felt this, but he shoved the thoughts aside.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Izaya shut his eyes, and suddenly, Shizuo's world got darker.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I don't know, but I find myself asking if I'd like that, and I get the same, unsure answer."</em>
</p><p>—</p><p>Shizuo thought back to that day by the river. After that night, he didn't know why, but he tried harder to be remembered by Izaya. Whether it was intentional or not, he knew he really was trying to find a place in Izaya's life, and as he read the entries, he found a place in his journal. Shizuo wondered if he found a place in Izaya's heart.</p><p>That day, he felt like something was getting in the way. He realized something had always been there, between them, and now, something did break; Izaya did.</p><p>Shizuo shoved the thought aside as he stared at the fire. He didn't want to give up, but he really had no other choice. He didn't know what to do anymore. So, he sat in front of a fireplace, which didn't seem so fierce compared to Izaya. Staring at the journals, he nearly frowned. He didn't want anyone else to find Izaya's thoughts and see how confused he was as he walked this earth. It wasn't right, it wasn't for everyone's knowledge. Izaya was always so composed and seemed to be thinking at lightning speed, coming up with a plan every second. To destroy that image of him wasn't so appealing. Shizuo didn't even know if he should've read them.</p><p>He ripped a page out of the most recent diary, his eyes glancing over the words briefly.</p><p>7 <em>May, 2009</em></p><p>
  <em>Looked in the mirror today. I didn't see my reflection, but it didn't freak me out. I ran to another mirror, then another, and still nothing. I don't know if it's the meds or just me losing my mind. Maybe it's because I don't know who I am. Maybe it's because people don't see me or how close I am to just losing it. It might be hypocritical, considering I don't know what I feel, but is it really so wrong to want someone to notice?</em>
</p><p>    Another rip.</p><p>
  <em>8 August, 2010</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To be or not to be? That is the question; whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by opposing, end them? To die, to sleep— no more— and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to— 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To sleep, perchance to dream— ay, there's the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause— There's the respect that makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time. Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, the pangs of despised love, the law's delay, the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit of th' unworthy takes— when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from whose bourn?</em><br/>
<em>No traveller returns, puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment. With this regard their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.**</em>
</p><p>     Another rip.</p><p>
  <em>15 November, 2010</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I think I love him. I think I want him here, want him to try.</em>
</p><p>Shizuo threw the page into the fire before he could hold it to his heart and never let go. He burnt page after page, his eyes not tearing up as he thought they would. For a brief moment, he felt nothing, and he wondered if Izaya had felt like that for years.</p><p>As he threw the pages into the fire, he looked the other way, trying to forget the words he read, the memories it brought up. Nothing ever escaped him; Izaya's beaming smile, his glinting eyes, his sharp words— he couldn't forget them, he didn't think he ever would.</p><p>All he knew was that he tried to find a place in Izaya's life. He didn't know why, he felt like he loved him, but he wasn't sure. Would he ever know? he wondered. Probably not, he couldn't ever answer that question with Izaya gone.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>**soliloquy taken from shakespeare's hamlet. i'm sure many of you have heard the famous phrase "to be or not to be," but some may not know what it actually means. in the play, the character is contemplating suicide. he lists the pros and cons, mentioning unrequited love, job troubles, etc., and i just felt like this soliloquy matched how izaya was feeling.</p><p>there's a reason depression is called the silent killer. people often suffer in silence, and unfortunately, they can't take it anymore. please do your best to help someone out &lt;3</p><p>for those who struggle with depression and often have suicidal thoughts: it's difficult, but it doesn't make you any weaker. you matter, your life matters, and even if it doesn't seem like that at the moment, that doesn't mean it's not true. don't push yourself too hard; some days, getting out of bed is more than enough. you don't always have to be indulging in a hobby or living an exciting life. i urge you to speak with someone and to find a healthy way to deal with your emotions, like keeping a journal. you may not know who you are right now, but that doesnt mean you'll never figure it out &lt;3 you are much stronger than you think</p><p>(again, please tell me if anything seems glorified. this really is meant for informative purposes. i was hesitant to post this for this very reason... thank you &lt;3 )</p></blockquote></div></div>
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